Looking for Bertie
by PsandQs
Summary: Takes place between seasons 9 and 10, and attempts to explain why Harry and Ruth were so relaxed with each other at the start of season 10.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This takes place between seasons 9 and 10, and attempts to explain why Harry and Ruth were on such relaxed terms with each other at the start of season 10.  
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_Wednesday 23 March 2011_

_London_

It was a typical late March day in London; crisp, cold air that misted her breath, and a weak sun trying valiantly, but in vain, to break through the low clouds. There was nothing out of the ordinary in the streets that slid past her window. They bustled and teemed with the morning rush hour traffic, eventually thinning out as the car moved further from the city centre. Just a normal, average March day, she reflected. Except that it wasn't. It was the day that marked the first step she was taking after The Decision, the first step towards what she hoped would be something wonderful.

The man next to her turned a page and it rustled in the silence. He was totally absorbed in his reading, and she turned her eyes back to the window, to the bare trees lining the street now moving slowly past. The car ghosted to a stop and for a moment she panicked. She had never been to his house – unless one counted the miserable hour she'd spent indecisively loitering across the street, wanting to take back the rejection of a second date many years ago – and her mind filled with doubt. Would he want her here, in his house, after everything that had happened? After everything she'd said?  
>"We're here," she announced, and her voice sounded high and anxious to her ears.<br>The Home Secretary looked up and surveyed the house for a few moments.  
>"Not too shabby for a civil servant, eh?" he remarked, then got out without waiting for a response.<br>Ruth got out as well. She followed him to the front door, the anxiety knotting tighter and tighter in her stomach.

Towers rang the bell and they could hear its stringent echo inside. The seconds ticked by, and when they'd stretched into a minute he leaned on the button again, longer this time. He'd barely taken his finger off it when the door swung open to reveal Harry, who regarded them in silence. There was no hint of surprise in his expression and Ruth surmised that he'd made use of the spyhole.  
>"Hello, Harry," Towers said breezily. "How have you b-... What's that?"<br>He pointed to the implement in Harry's left hand.  
>Harry looked down at it, almost baffled by its presence.<br>"They're pruning shears," he said, wiggling them slightly.  
>The two people on the doorstep stared at him, and he apparently felt that some sort of explanation was necessary, because he added, "I was, erm..." He faltered, then lifted his chin and looked at them challengingly. "I was thinking of doing some gardening."<br>"Good God!" Towers exclaimed, horrified by the thought. "We're just in time, evidently," and walked inside without waiting for an invitation.  
>Harry's gaze shifted to Ruth and they looked at each other for long seconds. When she stayed rooted to the spot, he asked drily, "Would you like to come in as well?"<br>He tried to sound casual but was not quite able to hide his uneasiness at her presence.  
>Her heart sank, and she took care not to brush against him as he stood aside to let her in.<p>

They found Towers in the living room, planted in front of the window and surveying the unkempt shrubbery outside with a slight air of distaste. Harry's garden could obviously do with some attention. Heaven knew what could be hidden in that tangled mess... His attention snapped back to the situation at hand and he turned towards the room.  
>"So. How are you, Harry?"<br>"Fine."  
>The curt response did not invite further discussion. He was a month into his suspension and climbing the walls. Hence the gardening implement he still clutched in his hand. He became aware of its presence and dropped it onto the paper scattered over the coffee table.<br>"To what do I owe this visit?" he enquired, deciding it was time to take control of the situation.  
>Towers looked around him and moved towards the nearest chair.<br>"May I?"  
>At Harry's nod he lowered himself onto it.<br>Ruth had wandered over to the far corner, her attention caught by a stack of vinyl LPs. Harry wondered what she made of the fact that he still had them. Luddite? Couldn't let go of things he loved? He was guilty on both counts, of course. He leant back against the wall and slipped his hands into his pockets, waiting for Towers to explain.

"I have a little project for you," the Home Secretary announced.  
>Ruth turned around, her focus now on Harry, carefully observing his reaction.<br>He kept his eyes on Towers, although he was fully aware of her scrutiny.  
>"I'm suspended; you're not allowed to give me any projects."<br>"Ah, but this is a private enterprise," Towers stated smugly.  
>When Harry merely lifted an eyebrow, he leaned forward and continued.<br>"A certain young nobleman of my acquaintance has disappeared. His mother approached me for help; she wants the matter handled discreetly. Naturally I thought of you. What better way to while away the time than to engage in a spot of amateur sleuthing?"  
>His eyes moved to the pruning shears and he added meaningfully, "I had a hunch you wouldn't cope well with enforced idleness."<br>Harry glared half-heartedly; Towers had him there.  
>He pointed out, "They have surveillance on me. My movements are limited, so I'm not sure how much use I'd be."<br>Both Towers and Ruth noticed that he didn't refuse right off the bat.  
>"Not to worry old chap," the Home Secretary said. "I've arranged everything. You'll have complete freedom of movement for the next two weeks. The only caveat is that someone from the Service should be with you at all times."<br>Harry's gaze flicked to Ruth, and she looked back steadily.  
>"Now, Harry," Towers continued sternly, "I am standing surety for you, because I don't believe you are the type of man that would abscond at the first opportunity. For God's sake don't prove me wrong."<br>He stood up. "Ruth here will babysit and fill you in on the details. Your expenses will be covered by the family of the missing man, and I'm sure there'll be something in it for you, especially if you should find him. These people aren't exactly poor."

Harry showed him out, and Ruth remained where she was. She could hear them talking, their voices an unintelligible low rumble before the door opened and closed. It was strange to be in his house like this. The butterflies in her stomach returned in full force now that she was alone with him, now that there was no-one else to take their focus off each other. Harry came back into the room and took up station behind a chair, his hands resting lightly on its back. He watched her for a moment before he spoke.  
>"So you drew the short straw?"<br>He seemed unimpressed by the whole idea, even somewhat aggrieved. She wasn't sure whether it was because his integrity was being called into question, or whether she was the one that would do the babysitting. The second option disturbed her more than she would like to admit.  
>"No," she said calmly.<br>Her answer surprised him and he cocked his head at her.  
>"I volunteered," she clarified with the ghost of a smile.<br>It took him a few seconds to process the implications of her statement, and his eyes softened. The set of his shoulders relaxed fractionally and he moved around the chair and sat down. When she didn't follow suit, he looked pointedly at the chair opposite him and back at her again. She got the hint and sat.

He decided to open with a safe topic.  
>"How are things on the Grid?"<br>"There have been some changes." She hesitated. "The acting Section Head-"  
>"Erin Watts," Harry supplied, and she shook her head in admiration.<br>"She's made some changes."  
>"What changes?" he asked sharply.<br>"She decommissioned Beth, and brought in a new techie. Calum Reed."  
>He absorbed the information without comment, a frown etched on his face. She could tell he was not exactly happy with these developments.<br>"She must be confident of her position," he remarked offhand, and Ruth knew he understood what it meant: Erin Watts had been told that she would be his replacement if the Inquiry found him guilty.  
>"Yes. She's a big fan of yours, though," Ruth revealed, wanting him to know that Erin was not working against him.<br>He pondered this bit of news, then said, straight-faced, "She's obviously never met me."  
>Ruth couldn't smother her smile.<br>"Obviously," she agreed.  
>He smiled, and with that the last lingering unease between them melted away.<p>

"So. What have we got?" Harry asked and leaned forward.  
>Ruth rummaged in her bag and produced a slim file which she handed across. He flicked it open and was confronted with a photograph paper-clipped to the first page. The man in it looked to be in his mid-twenties, blonde and lanky. He reclined against an Aston Martin with an insouciant smile.<br>"David William Percy V," Ruth informed him.  
>Harry rolled his eyes and muttered, "Oh, the <em>fifth<em>."  
>"Heir apparent to the Duke of Suffolk and his large business empire."<br>"How large?"  
>"Multi-millionaire large. Mining concessions in Australia, South Africa and Chile, tea and coffee plantations in Sri Lanka and Kenya, and so on."<br>He flipped up the photo and perused the list of companies on the first page.  
>"Was daddy recently ennobled, then, perhaps after a not-so-modest financial contribution into the right coffers?"<br>"Actually, no. The family traces right back to the War of the Roses. They were on the Lancastran side of things and were eventually rewarded for that with a Dukedom during the Tudor era."  
>Harry pursed his lips. "Ah. So instead of the vulgarities of the nouveau riche we'll have to contend with good old-fashioned baseless entitlement."<br>He was not a fan of the nobility, irrespective of their ilk.  
>She gave him a look and bit back the urge to call him <em>Sir<em> Harry.  
>He ignored it and pointed at the photograph. "How long has Bertie Wooster here been missing?"<br>"Two weeks," she said, her disapproval evident in her tone. She found it hard to understand how parents could wait two weeks before they start to worry about their children, and it showed in her expression.

Harry watched the play of emotion on her face and sighed inwardly. They were so very different in some ways. Despite her more jaded view of the world since her return from Cyprus, she still, in essence, believed in the goodness of humankind, whereas he had a more cynical outlook. These days he tended to be more surprised to encounter common decency than its opposite. He wondered, not for the first time, what she really thought of his abject failure as a father; whether she knew about Graham and the fact that, for years, he'd had no idea where his son was.  
>Her voice brought him back to the matter at hand.<br>"The Duchess, Lady Agnes, is willing to speak to us."  
>"How generous," he murmured.<br>When he didn't move, she added pointedly, "Today, Harry."  
>His mouth twitched in amusement at her firm tone. Not many people dared to speak to him in this way, but she had always been different. He had always allowed her more liberties than most.<br>"Right. I'll go and dress for the occasion, shall I?"  
>Her eyes slid away from him, the thought of him undressing under the same roof as her enticing and embarrassing in equal measure. When she looked back at him his gaze was on her, curious and contemplative. She wondered what he read in her face, but whatever it was, it seemed to remove any doubts he might have had about taking on this project.<br>"Ruth," he said, his voice warm and reassuring. "The odds are better than even that we'll find him in a house of ill repute or an opium den somewhere, wasting daddy's money. If it were something more serious, like kidnapping, they'd have heard from the perpetrators by now."  
>She nodded, moved by his attempt to ease her concerns, and watched him walk from the room. He was going to do it, and she would accompany him every step of the way. The thought ignited a spark of excitement in the pit of her stomach, and she couldn't stop the smile that spread across her face. For the first time since she'd taken the decision to stop pushing him away, to allow herself a chance at happiness, she began to believe that there was hope for them.<p>

_tbc_


	2. Chapter 2

_Wednesday 23 March 2011  
>London, Harry's house<em>

Ruth turned away from her perusal of his bookcase when he entered a few minutes later. He was in shirtsleeves, a tie draped loosely around his neck, and laid his suit jacket neatly over the back of a chair before he addressed her.  
>"We're going to make a detour to my club first."<br>His hands busied themselves knotting the tie, and she watched their deft movements with enthralment. The rich red silk flowed smoothly through his fingers as he slid the knot into place with practised precision. He fastened the collar buttons and reached for his jacket – a modern day knight donning his armour for the coming battle.  
>"Ruth?" he said with a puzzled look, interrupting her fanciful thoughts.<br>"Hmm? …Oh, er, yes, your club."  
>She fumbled around for the thread of the conversation, and his gaze became intense and interested in a heartbeat. Ruth feared that her ogling might have been noticed, and hurried on to distract him.<br>"Why are we going there?"  
>"We need to see a man about some gossip," he responded enigmatically, and escorted her out of the house.<p>

- 0 –

"Dickie is quite a character," he informed her as he steered the Land Rover haphazardly through the traffic. Ruth was reminded that for years he'd seldom driven himself anywhere, and secretly thought that a good thing as he cut in front of a lorry, causing the driver to blare his horn at them angrily.  
>"He is the best source of gossip about the nobility of our beloved Realm. I'd like to be prepared when we meet her Ladyship, so I've asked him to see us for a few minutes."<br>"Right," Ruth said, and braced herself against the dashboard as they swerved around a corner much too fast.  
>"At your club… Will I even be allowed inside?" she asked, whilst praying that they would reach it before she died of a heart attack.<br>"Of course you will," he stated, somewhat offended. "We have galloped into the era of enlightenment along with the rest of the world – women are free to enter the Ladies Lounge."  
>Her head snapped round and she stared at him incredulously. She was about to make a snarky comment about how the allowance of a Ladies Lounge did not equal enlightenment when she noticed the mischievous twinkle in his eye.<br>"We're here," he said, and she was so relieved to still be in one piece that she forgot all about enlightenment.

He led her inside and she blinked in the muted lighting of the foyer. A small, slim man rushed over to them, his hand stretched out in greeting.  
>"Harry, old man!" he said and wrung Harry's hand enthusiastically before his gaze moved to Ruth in frank curiosity. Harry made the introductions and Dickie gave her a limp-wristed handshake. He led them into a room to the left, which was indeed identified as the Ladies Lounge by a sign above the door. Ruth gave Harry a look and he suppressed a smile.<p>

As they settled around a table and ordered tea, Ruth studied the little man. He was sharply dressed, down to the handkerchief peeking out of his suit's top pocket. It was impossible to guess his age other than that he must be over seventy. His gestures tended towards campiness, but the eyes shone with intelligence and excitement. He looked at Harry almost dotingly.  
>"Well, here we are," Dickie said, straightening the sugar pot in the middle of the table primly.<br>"It was a nice surprise to hear from you, Harry. Haven't seen you around the club much recently?"  
>Harry said, "I've been otherwise occupied." Then he added, with a knowing look at the other man, "You know how it is, Dickie."<br>"Oh indeed. Indeed, yes," Dickie gabbled. He reached out and patted Harry's hand. "The security of the nation is a heavy burden to have on one's shoulders. Yes, indeed," he said solemnly.

Harry merely nodded, equally solemnly, and they all silently contemplated the heavy burden that was the nation's security for a few moments before Harry leaned towards the other man. He made a show of checking that no-one was in earshot before murmuring, "I need your assistance, Dickie. I can't tell you what it's about, unfortunately."  
>Ruth watched in fascination as Harry played up his Man of Mystery persona and Dickie swallowed it hook, line and sinker.<br>"My dear man," Dickie cried. "Don't give it a second thought. Now, what can I do for you?"  
>"The Duke of Suffolk and his family – what do you know about them?"<br>Dickie's eyes widened and Ruth could see his mind try to fit the Duke into any of the current known threats to security.  
>"Frightfully rich, of course," he began slowly, and Harry interjected.<br>"Legitimate gains?"  
>"Oh, yes," Dickie said confidently, then added, "unless you count the exploitation of the noble savages in the former colonies as illegal. Which we didn't, in those days. The Duke's father was a shrewd businessman, and he did better than most in positioning his companies to survive decolonisation."<br>"What about the marriage? Happy or a matter of convenience?"  
>Dickie's eyes lit up at the opportunity to share the more salacious gossip in his possession.<br>"Ah, astute question, Harry. Definitely a matter of convenience." He leaned forward and lowered his voice confidentially. "Lady Agnes is a _Neville_, you see."  
>He looked between them triumphantly. Harry frowned, perplexed, and looked to Ruth.<br>"The Nevilles were Yorkists, while the Percys were Lancastrans," she explained. "They were on opposite sides during the Wars of the Roses."  
>"Exactly!" Dickie barked, delighted by her grasp of the finer details of that conflict. "Hundreds of years have passed, and still the families feel the need to cement their ties through marriage. Extraordinary," he marvelled.<br>Harry pondered the information, then mused, "Since we have moved out of the dark ages-" his mouth twitched and he avoided Ruth's eye, "-I assume it was not done for political reasons. Nowadays the only empires being built are business empires. What line of business is Lady Agnes' family in?"  
>Dickie smiled, and tapped the side of his nose with a finger. "They're shipping magnates."<p>

Harry leaned back and glanced at Ruth before speaking again. "A business betrothal then. Are they faithful to each other?"  
>"Good heavens, no," the dapper little man exclaimed. "Soon after she dutifully produced two male heirs, they ceased to share a bed. Both have discreet affairs. I think he's currently sleeping with one of the senior executives in his company. Young enough to be his daughter, predictably enough, although I suppose one should be thankful that he steered clear of the clichéd affair with the secretary. She's not seeing anyone at the moment, as far as I know."<br>He dropped his voice even lower. "She has a taste for powerful men, apparently. It is rumoured, for instance, that she had a liaison with our current Home Secretary ten years or so ago."  
>Neither Harry nor Ruth showed any reaction to this titbit, and Dickie's sharp features sagged in disappointment. Harry did not give him time to wallow in it.<br>"What do you know about the two sons?"  
>Dickie gave it some thought. "The eldest, David, is a playboy. He's a good looking lad," he said wistfully, "and he likes the ladies. They like him too, of course. Always has the latest sports car, and has been trying to complete his business degree for seven years now. If his father weren't such a large benefactor to the university, he would probably have been kicked out long ago. Thus far he has shown little interest and zero aptitude for running the family business. But he is his father's favourite – the first-born that can do no wrong. The younger one, Edward, is a whole different kettle of fish. Smart, responsible, and a gifted sportsman. But the best he can hope for is a managing post in one of the outposts of the business."<br>He shook his head sadly. "A waste. David will in all likelihood run the family fortune into the ground, and everyone except his father realises it."

- 0 –

They were back in the car, heading out to the Percy family home on the outskirts of the city. Harry's driving had not improved, but Ruth was mentally prepared for it this time. She gradually relaxed as she realised that the risks he took were calculated rather than reckless. She stared out the window as she processed everything Dickie had told them.  
>"Do you believe him about Towers and Lady Agnes?" she asked.<br>Harry pursed his lips, then said with a trace of amusement, "People tend to discard Dickie as a ridiculous little dandy, but he knows things that could bring the Royal family and most of the upper classes to its knees."  
>There was a knowing note in his voice, and she tilted her head at him and stated accusingly, "You already knew about it."<br>When he didn't deny it, she shook her head and looked out the window again.  
>He glanced at her before returning his eyes to the road.<br>"It came out in the vetting."

Ruth focused on the scenery outside and wondered what other secrets he knew that she never would. It was a sobering thought and she pushed it away determinedly.  
>Instead she commented, "Dickie's information seems to confirm your view that we'll find 'Bertie' tucked away with a woman somewhere."<br>He smiled at her use of the nickname he'd given the missing man.  
>"We should try to keep an open mind, though," he suggested. "And by 'we' I obviously mean 'you'," he added, his eyes twinkling.<br>Before she had time to respond, he swung the car through an open gate fast enough to leave her clutching at the armrest. He parked in front of the imposing mansion in a spurt of gravel that made the butler waiting on the doorstep frown in disapproval. The man's demeanour only improved when he learnt that the male visitor was a Knight of the Realm.

They were shown into what the butler called the 'drawing room', to Harry's annoyance. It was tastefully decorated with what appeared to be expensive antique furniture, but it was too formal for Ruth's taste. A woman rose from one of the chairs, drawing their attention. She was about Harry's age, elegantly dressed, and beautiful in the classic English Rose sort of way. A set of violet blue eyes appraised them as the butler announced their names.  
>"Sir Harry Pearce and Miss Ruth Evershed to see you, m'lady." His voice had turned deferential when announcing Harry's name. Ruth glanced at Harry and detected a hint of irritation in the set of his mouth.<br>"Sir Harry, I am most thankful for your assistance," Lady Agnes said gravely when they were all seated. "I would not want our affairs splashed all over the tabloids like some tawdry gossip story, which is why I asked William Towers for help."  
>Harry regarded her wordlessly, then said, "To be frank, I think you should go to the Police. It is their area of expertise, finding missing persons." After a beat he added, "And they are discreet."<br>Lady Agnes' mouth tightened. "Discreet? Such as when they turned a blind eye to the tabloids hacking into the phones of the famous?"  
>She flicked a dismissive hand. "Our family is quite prominent, Sir Harry, and has always been a target for the red-tops. Believe me, PC Plod would not have resisted a whisper into the right ear, had I gone to them."<br>Next to Harry, Ruth bristled. "So your family's reputation is more important than the safety of your own son?"

There was a shocked silence during which Lady Agnes stared at Ruth. She had gone quite pale but her expression remained carefully controlled. Harry lifted an eyebrow at Ruth's forthrightness but said nothing.  
>When Lady Agnes responded, her voice was tight and harsh. "I will not have my love for my son questioned by a common spook who clearly does not understand the intricacies of upper class life-"<br>Harry's face hardened and he cut her off. "You'll do well not to antagonise us with your ludicrous condescension and over-inflated views of your own importance. We all know the real reason you don't want to involve the Police is because you expect us to find your son in a whorehouse or shacked up with an inappropriate woman somewhere, is it not?"  
>Lady Agnes turned even paler, but did not respond.<br>Harry continued mercilessly, "Do not for one moment think that this investigation will be done on your terms. This visit is nothing more than a courtesy and to get some details of your son's last known movements. So shall we get on?"  
>The two of them glared at each other; neither appeared willing to give an inch. Ruth involuntarily held her breath. Then Lady Agnes suddenly threw back her head and laughed – a deep throaty laugh that was in stark contrast to the self-contained image she had projected thus far.<br>"William said I would like you, Sir Harry," she said, her gaze on him now one of frank and open interest.  
>Harry relaxed as well and smiled slightly. "Call me Harry," he said. He got up and moved to the tall windows, and Ruth couldn't help but notice that he seemed very much at home in this milieu. She glanced at Lady Agnes and saw that she had noticed it too, and that knowledge gave Ruth pause.<p>

For the first time in a long while she allowed herself to look at Harry and see him as other women were likely to - a self-assured, successful and powerful man with a lot to offer. She watched his gaze linger on Lady Agnes, and wondered morbidly whether she might have left it too late.

_tbc_


	3. Chapter 3

_Wednesday 23 March 2011  
>London, Percy mansion<em>

Harry was the first to break the silence. "When did you see your son last?"  
>"A month ago," Lady Agnes replied, her voice carefully even.<br>Harry looked to Ruth. "I thought he's been missing for two weeks?"  
>"He was at university until two weeks ago," Lady Agnes clarified. "Then he suddenly took off, in the middle of term, and no-one has seen him since."<br>She turned to Ruth. "Being part of the rich and famous is like living in a village – everyone else tends to know your business. One learns not to show too much to the rest of the world." She stated with some defiance, "I may not show it, Miss Evershed, but I am deeply worried about David."  
>After a slight hesitation she added almost resignedly, "He and his father had a serious falling-out before David left home about a month ago."<br>When she didn't elaborate, Ruth opened her mouth to ask the reason behind the argument, but Harry caught her eye and shook his head once. She closed her mouth again and silence enveloped the room. After a while it seemed to get on the Duchess' nerves and she continued.  
>"David was supposed to accompany his father on a business trip to Sri Lanka, but instead he went to Bangkok with some of his university friends. I think my husband has finally lost patience. He used to excuse David's behaviour as a young man having his fun before he settles down, but I suspect he is beginning to realise that David has no intention of settling down. Ever."<p>

Harry watched her hands smooth her dress over her thighs and asked, "Does he have a girlfriend?"  
>The Duchess looked pained. "He has several. Nary a month goes by without some little trollop knocking on the door and claiming she is carrying the next heir."<br>Her lip curled in contempt, and Ruth wondered whether it was meant for her son or for the women.  
>"Do you have any idea where he might have gone?" she asked.<br>Lady Agnes shook her head. "My son does not confide in me. I should ask his friends if I were you."  
>"And where would we find said friends?" Harry inquired.<br>"At Cambridge. David has been studying there for the last seven years."

As they took their leave, Ruth lagged behind to study one of the paintings. She turned around in time to see Lady Agnes step up to Harry and place her hand on his arm.  
>"Thank you, Harry," she murmured. "Perhaps you'd like to come for drinks one evening?"<br>Harry gently removed his arm from under her hand. "I'm afraid I have no spare time," he said, and Ruth could have kissed him.  
>Lady Agnes took the rejection with a slight shrug of the shoulders and a rueful smile. The butler showed them out and Ruth could see the Duchess watch them from the window as they drove off.<p>

- 0 –

They reached the main road and Harry stopped, his fingers tapping on the wheel reflexively.  
>"There's something she wasn't telling us," he said.<br>"What makes you think that?"  
>"She displayed all the signs of someone who is lying: tense posture, sweating, fidgety hands."<br>He looked at her. "You didn't notice?"  
>Ruth shook her head, embarrassed. She wasn't about to tell him that she had been too busy watching him watch the other woman to notice these signs.<br>Harry thought for a moment and sighed. "I suppose there's no alternative… We'll have to go to Cambridge," he announced gloomily.  
>He might as well have announced the end of the world as he turned the car north and set off, positively morose. His resulting pout amused Ruth no end. Her heart still light and warm now that she was certain that he wasn't interested in Lady Agnes, she couldn't resist teasing him.<br>"Just because you went to Oxford doesn't mean that Cambridge is inferior, Harry."  
>The pout intensified but he didn't reply.<br>She continued to needle him. "Why, lots of famous people went to Cambridge-"  
>"Oh of course," he interjected acerbically, "Kim Philby for instance."<br>"-like Isaac Newton," she persisted, before she was once again interrupted.  
>"Anthony Blunt," he offered, but Ruth was not to be defeated.<br>"Alan Turing."  
>"Burgess."<br>"Wordsworth."  
>"Maclean."<br>"Byron, Tennyson."  
>"Bilal Abdullah."<br>"Stephen Hawking."  
>"Er…" Harry faltered, unable to come up with another infamous Cambridge alumnus. He glared briefly at Ruth but couldn't hold back a smile.<br>"At least we won the last boat race," he grumbled, and she laughed.  
>"Yes, we certainly did," she agreed, and diplomatically refrained from pointing out that Cambridge still held the overall honours. They settled into easy conversation for the rest of the trip.<p>

- 0 –

His name was Brent, and he had tousled dark hair and a cheeky smile. One of David's lecturers had pointed him out as a close friend of the missing man. The lecturer himself had displayed weary despair of ever getting rid of David Percy V and had made it plain that he did not expect the young man to amount to anything. Now Harry and Ruth were squashed uncomfortably into Brent's small room amid the carelessly scattered books and clothes, facing the student as he sat on his bed. Harry disliked him on principle and suspected that it had taken Brent considerable time to get the tousled look just right that morning. There was, of course, the added irritation that the young man had succeeded within minutes of their arrival in winning a warm smile from Ruth with his announcement that he was studying Classics. He watched glumly as Ruth enthusiastically compared Brent's curriculum with the one she had completed at Oxford. When they paused in their discussion, he stepped in with authority.  
>"When did you last see Bertie?"<br>Ruth gave him a curious look, wondering at his short manner.  
>Brent looked confused. "Who?"<br>"He means David," she clarified.  
>"Oh. About two weeks ago."<br>"And you haven't heard from him since?" Harry asked.  
>"No."<br>"Is that unusual?"  
>Brent thought about it. "Not especially."<br>Harry studied him closely. "You don't seem particularly worried about your friend."  
>Brent stared at him, but didn't respond. Ruth kept quiet and let the silence do its work.<br>"David's a big boy, he can look after himself," Brent said after a while.  
>Harry changed tack. "Is he popular?"<br>The young man turned to Ruth. "Is he serious?" he asked, jerking a thumb in Harry's direction. "He's the son of a Duke, he's rich and he's good-looking. Of course he's bloody popular."  
>"Hmm. Does well with the ladies too?" Harry probed, unperturbed by Brent's reaction.<br>The student snorted. "Not sure they classify as 'ladies', mate."  
>Harry lifted an eyebrow. "What would you call the women he associates with then, <em>mate<em>?"  
>Brent tossed his hair out of his eyes and grinned at Ruth. "I'd call them 'exotic', since I'm in polite company."<br>Ruth smiled slightly and lifted her eyebrows. Harry said, annoyed, "Care to be a little blunter?"  
>"Not in front of a real lady," Brent responded cheekily, still grinning at Ruth.<br>When he finally looked at Harry, the older man's expression wiped the smile off his face and he sat up straighter.  
>"Okay… He likes prostitutes, specifically those of other nationalities, the darker the better. When we went to Thailand, I think he frequented every high class whore in town. And a few months ago he accompanied Daddy on a business trip to Kenya. When he returned – let's just say he was like a man who'd discovered the Promised Land."<br>Harry pursed his lips and frowned. "Does he flaunt his money?"  
>"Well, if you call a new flashy car every few months and bringing his valet to university with him flaunting it."<br>He gestured to his desk, where photographs showed the same group of carefree young men clustered around an array of different cars.

Ruth leaned forward. "Brent. Does David talk about his family?"  
>"Sometimes. His father's gone a lot, and he isn't close to his mother. His younger brother is an over-achiever – he has a chance of making the Olympic team. Rowing. And he does well academically. David thinks his mom is pushing Daddy to hand over the business to Ed rather than to him, but David's always been his father's favourite as far as I can tell."<br>He paused, then asked, "Do you think he's in trouble?"  
>Harry stood. "No, not at this time. But his family would like to know that he's safe. So if you hear from him, you let them know, yes?"<br>Brent nodded, and they took their leave.

- 0 –

"What do you think?" Harry asked as he weaved his way out of Cambridge.  
>"I found him rather charming," Ruth answered with a sideways glance at him.<br>Harry scowled, and she relented with a soft laugh. "The Percys don't appear to be the happiest of families."  
>"No," Harry agreed thoughtfully.<br>"And I think David's reaction to the delights of Kenya may be significant."  
>He smiled. "I'm glad you said that."<br>She cocked her head at him.  
>"I think we should go to Kenya," he announced.<br>Ruth was caught off-guard. "I'm sorry?"  
>"I think he's in Kenya," Harry explained patiently. "Hence if we go there, we will find him."<br>"Harry, you're suspended. We can't just go to Kenya."  
>"Towers said I have freedom of movement for the next two weeks."<br>"Somehow I don't think that includes leaving the country," she muttered, but he could sense her wavering.  
>"Look, why don't you go back to the office and check the passport records – if we know he left the country we are fully entitled to go after him."<br>"I'm supposed to stay with you at all times," she said uncertainly.  
>Harry kept his eyes on the road and mumbled to himself, "That could make bath time rather awkward," but apparently not softly enough, as her head whipped round in astonishment.<br>He sighed. "Just go to the bloody office, Ruth. I won't put a foot outside my house like a good boy until you're back."  
>She didn't miss the tone of weary resentment underlying the words, and it brought her up short. For a few blissful hours she had forgotten about the situation he found himself in, and his reaction served as a reminder that it must be weighing on him; even if she could temporarily forget that he was on the brink of losing his job, he could not. She gave in.<br>"All right."  
>He let out his breath slowly and nodded. "Thank you."<p>

- 0 –

Back at his house, Harry wandered into the sitting room. He stood for a moment where Towers had stood earlier and surveyed his unkempt garden. He couldn't stop his thoughts from dwelling once again on his uncertain future. It was ironic, he realised, that now that he was in danger of losing his job, he so desperately wanted to keep it. He'd spent most of the last year wishing those responsibilities that weighed so heavily on his shoulders were no longer his to bear, only to miss it desperately once he had been suspended. He'd often worried that he would not adapt to a normal life once he was forced out or retired, and perhaps that was still true, but he now knew that it went deeper than that for him. The work was his calling, and he was suited to it perfectly – the proverbial round peg fitting snugly in his round hole. He was meant to serve his country, and he could not comprehend a life in which that was no longer his purpose.

With a sigh he turned around and his gaze fell on the stack of LPs, and with the best will in the world he could not stop his thoughts from going to her. Ruth. The one person he was willing to give up everything for – even leave the Service if that's what she wanted. But, after he'd made such a hash of the proposal and, in her eyes at least, Albany, he had begun to doubt whether the time would ever be right for them. She had certainly given the impression that she thought their chance had passed and that it was time for them to move on, but he could not do it. God knows he tried, even asked her to keep their interactions to work only, but it didn't work. In the end there was nothing complicated about it: he loved her, and he would never give up hope. For the first time in his life he loved a woman enough to sacrifice everything for her, and she probably realised it as well after he'd traded a state secret to save her life. That knowledge scared and exhilarated him simultaneously, and sometimes he found it hard to maintain his equilibrium when she was around him. It was such hard work to keep his distance from her, and the only reason he kept it up was because he didn't want to put the additional burden of his own happiness on her. She'd suffered enough. He'd resigned himself to an existence where she was constantly in his orbit but always out of reach, but then she'd turned up on his doorstep this morning. He replayed the way she'd watched him as he knotted his tie and her gentle teasing over Cambridge, and he wondered. Maybe…?

His mobile buzzed and he jerked back to reality. It was Ruth.  
>"You were right," she said without preamble. "Better start packing the sunscreen and insect repellent."<p>

_tbc_


	4. Chapter 4

_Thursday 24 March 2011  
><em>_Nairobi, Kenya_

Ruth woke up as the plane circled over Kenya's capital, to find her head resting on Harry's shoulder. It felt good. Natural. His linen shirt was soft under her cheek. She sat up slowly and lifted her eyes to his. His gaze was soft and content, and something else that she preferred not to name just yet. Suddenly her eyes widened and shot back to his shoulder, but to her relief there was no wet patch. When she met his eyes again there was a hint of amusement in them, and she smiled sheepishly.  
>"Sorry." Her hand brushed over his shirt before she could stop it. "I've wrinkled it."<br>"Doesn't matter," he said, and meant it.  
>Their eyes held until the weight of it became too much for Ruth and she turned away to look out the window. The city sprawled below them and she took in the enormity of the informal settlement that had sprouted up along the southwest side. Kibera was one of the biggest slums in the world, and Ruth studied it in horrified fascination. Its mosaic of narrow alleys, tin shacks and mud dwellings stretched far and wide. She vaguely recalled once seeing a documentary about it, and her mind effortlessly supplied some facts it had stored away. No-one really knew how many people lived in Kibera, and estimates put the number anywhere between two hundred thousand and over a million. There was no water, sanitation or electricity and the soil was said to consist almost entirely of refuse. She compared it to her own life, the material comfort of her existence, and suddenly her problems didn't seem all that big. She thought, 'I have no understanding what real, crushing poverty is like, and what it does to the dignity of those suffering through it<em>.'<em> She turned back to Harry, the despair she felt on behalf of these people evident in her face. He hesitated, then reached out and touched the back of her hand briefly.  
>"Rather puts things into perspective, doesn't it?"<br>Ruth smiled wanly. "If Bertie's somewhere in there, Harry… How will we ever find him?"  
>"He won't be there of his own accord – too used to the comforts of the high life. But if he were... To the people living there, that maze is as familiar as London's streets are to a cabbie. It can be done with the help of local knowledge."<br>He smiled. "And I know just the man."

- 0 –

They emerged from the terminal into a cloudy, pleasant day. Nairobi's higher altitude and the fact that it was moving towards autumn meant that temperatures weren't too high. A large man stepped out of a SUV parked illegally on the pavement and waved. Harry guided Ruth towards him. The two men regarded each other, unconsciously mapping the change intervening years had made. Then the man grinned widely and clapped Harry on the shoulder.  
>"Harry bloody Pearce, in the flesh. My God."<br>Harry smiled. "Hello, Tim."

Tim Warner was an investigative journalist who had been living in Nairobi for many years. He was the type of man that the Security Services found useful to have on their books – well known around the city and with extensive contacts among the ruling class. His main use was to introduce other agents to the targets they wanted to infiltrate, but he would also pass on the occasional titbit of information. During the investigation into the bombing of the US embassy in Nairobi, which MI5 had assisted with, Harry found him of great value.

As he drove through the chaotic traffic confidently, he brought them up to date with what he knew.  
>"I've made discreet enquiries about your missing man."<br>He glanced at Harry. "Are you having me on, old boy? I mean, if this is just a jaunt with the little lady, I'm the last one to judge-"  
>"What are you talking about?" Harry asked sharply, ignoring Ruth's affronted intake of breath from the back.<br>"Well, he's not really missing, is he?" Tim looked at Harry again and noted that his confusion was swiftly being replaced by annoyance. He hastened on.  
>"He's been out and about in Kenya for the last month."<br>Harry turned to look at Ruth, but she appeared to be as baffled as he was.  
>"You've seen him?" he asked Tim, who shook his head.<br>"Not personally, no. But I've been told that he visited one or two of the community upliftment projects the family is running in the areas surrounding their tea plantations."  
>There was a hint of scorn as he continued, "They're very keen to be seen to do their bit for charity, but of course the money they spend on that isn't even a drop in the bucket of the profit they make out of exploiting these people."<br>"So there was press coverage of these visits?" Harry asked, still trying to make sense of it.  
>"No, no, it was just your man and the locals," Tim said as he drew up in front of a modest hotel.<br>"So how did they know it was him?" Harry persisted.  
>Tim gave him a pitiful look and said, carefully enunciating every syllable, "Because he introduced himself." The 'you idiot' remained unspoken.<br>"Hmm," Harry responded and reached for the door.  
>"Apparently there's a charity do for one of the projects tomorrow night, and your man promised to attend."<br>"Where?"  
>"Here in Nairobi."<p>

They agreed a time for Tim to pick them up for dinner and checked into their rooms. It was basic, but at least it was clean. Half an hour later there was a knock at Ruth's door, and she opened it to let Harry in. He settled on the threadbare chair whilst she perched on the foot of the bed.  
>"Amenities satisfactory?" he asked.<br>"Yes." She didn't mention her staring contest with the transparent gecko that seemed to live in her shower.  
>"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Harry said, and she assumed he wasn't talking about geckos in showers, or the fact that they were in a hotel room. Alone.<br>"Someone is impersonating David Percy," she ventured, and Harry nodded.  
>He said, "I want to go to that function tomorrow night. The Duchess will organise an invitation for us, I'm sure."<br>He looked uncomfortable as he asked, "Do you have something to wear? It's formal."  
>Ruth shook her head.<br>"Me neither," Harry stated with a small smile. "Tim will sort us out on that front tomorrow."  
>He fell silent, suddenly acutely aware of the bed behind her. All it would take was two steps, and he'd be able to lean over her, kiss her mouth, her neck, and lay her back on the mattress… He cleared his throat and stood suddenly.<br>"Ill let you get some rest before dinner."  
>She nodded, and watched him walk out of the room with a knowing look.<p>

- 0 –

For dinner Tim took them to a restaurant situated on the edge of the city. The old colonial house had a wide veranda from which the candles on the tables winked at them invitingly. Bougainvilleas tumbled over the perimeter wall in riotous colour. The journalist seemed to know everyone in the restaurant, and introduced the two spooks as friends visiting from the old country. They settled at a secluded table in the corner of the veranda. The food was good, the ambience relaxing, and Tim kept the conversation flowing effortlessly. Ruth looked wonderful and smiled at him often, and Harry felt himself relax for perhaps the first time since Ros' funeral.

Tim filled them in on the political situation (mostly calm) and the incidence of crime (not too bad), and now moved on to discussing the expat community in Nairobi.  
>"There's quite a lot of us still around. Most of them tend to cluster together and create little pockets of Britain. There are golf clubs, for instance, where you'd be hard pressed to recognise you're on another continent, apart from the better weather. You'll find the women sitting around the lounge sipping their G and Ts, while the men play golf poorly and discuss that morning's Times newspaper." He paused disdainfully. "And at the other end of the scale, you get the expats that go completely native – shack up with a local woman who they then try to turn into a darker version of their mother, and walk around in ridiculous ethnic outfits."<br>Ruth rested her chin in her palm and studied him. "And in which camp do you fall?"  
>Tim threw back his head and laughed. "Neither, I'm afraid. I think it's best to remember who you are and where you come from, but to also learn everything you can about the place and its people."<br>"And which camp does the Duke of Suffolk fit into?" Harry asked.  
>"Oh, definitely the former. He's not often in Nairobi, though. When he visits Kenya, he spends most of his time on their tea plantation estate near Mount Kenya. You should visit – you can see the Masai Mara from the veranda."<p>

Tim excused himself for a while, and Harry and Ruth were left alone with each other. She could feel his eyes on her, could sense them caress her face. His hand twitched on the tablecloth and for a split-second she thought he would reach out and take her hand, but his fingers curled inward to form a loose fist instead.  
>"Harry," she found herself saying as she looked up and lost herself in his gentle gaze, "...I'm glad I volunteered."<br>He breathed deeply and smiled. "So am I, Ruth. I-"  
>Tim returned, and Harry never finished what he was about to say.<p>

- 0 –

_Friday 24 March 2011  
><em>_Windsor Golf and Country Club, Nairobi_

Harry circulated among the other guests with Ruth on his arm. It was a struggle to keep his focus on the matter at hand rather than the alluring woman next to him. When she'd opened her door to him earlier that evening, he'd openly stared. Even now his eyes often strayed to her bare shoulders or the demure contours of her breasts and hips. He could still feel the warmth of her palms against his chest - she had helped him with his bowtie, and afterwards her hands lingered on his chest whilst she didn't dare look at his face. It had taken all his willpower not to kiss her. He snagged two champagne glasses and led her to the outer fringes of the gathering. The setting was beautiful; a deck overlooking a lake and flanked by towering, lush trees. Harry leaned his back against the railing and Ruth settled next to him, close enough for their arms to touch. Not for the first time that evening a frisson ran through his nerve-ends.  
>"Anything?" he murmured, thankful that his voice did not give away his reaction to her proximity.<br>She began to shake her head, and then spotted a tall young man striding towards them, his blonde hair shining under the lights along the path.  
>"Here's something," she said, turning sideways so that she could study the man unobtrusively. Ruth took a good look before leaning past Harry to put down her champagne glass.<br>"It looks a lot like David, but it's not him," she reported in a low voice. "I think we've found our impersonator."

Harry could now see the man over her shoulder. He moved into the throngs of people confidently, and they heard him introduce himself as 'David Percy'.  
>Harry frowned; something about the man was familiar, and not because he looked like the missing heir. Before he could pursue that train of thought, his brain registered something that was out of place. He froze and scanned the trees to their right, and saw it again. Dark shapes slipping from tree to tree. There was a momentary glint of moonlight on what he was sure was the barrel of a gun. He grabbed Ruth's wrist and pulled her against him as he scanned their surroundings. He was vaguely aware of her eyes on his face, luminous in the low light, as she looked at him questioningly. Before he had a chance to explain, all hell broke loose.<p>

_tbc_


	5. Chapter 5

_Friday 24 March 2011  
><em>_Windsor Golf and Country Club, Nairobi_

For the next few seconds, Ruth registered flashes of sensation that her mind would only later assemble into a coherent whole. There was a glimpse of men in dark clothes, their faces hidden by balaclavas. There was the deafening sound of gunfire and the smell of cordite. And there was Harry's weight pressing her into the floor as his body covered hers. She heard harsh voices arguing in a language she didn't know. Harry's head was turned towards the melee. He moved as if to get up and Ruth realised that he intended to intervene. Panic flooded her and she gripped the lapels of his jacket with a strength she didn't know she possessed and yanked him down again. He looked at her, startled, and everything she felt for him was plainly written in her eyes, including her fear for his life. He stopped moving and one of his hands found its way to her cheek, cupping it reassuringly.  
>"No-one move!" One of the masked men called loudly.<br>Harry slowly turned his head and watched them drag the blonde impersonator off through the trees. Two of the men stayed until they heard a vehicle start up in the distance. Only when its sound had faded into the night, did they turn and disappear into the trees themselves.

Harry was the first to move. He scrambled to his feet and pulled Ruth upright. His hands framed her face as he asked urgently, "Are you all right?"  
>She nodded, still somewhat stunned by events, and the relief in his eyes matched that in hers.<br>He turned away and pulled out his mobile.  
>"What's the local emergency number?" he asked in the general direction of the frozen group of people still cowering on the ground.<br>When no-one responded, he marched over and hauled one of the local men to his feet.  
>"What's the emergency number for the police?" he repeated urgently.<br>The man stared at him with wide, terrified eyes.  
>"Come on! Time is of the essence," Harry snapped irritably, and the man stammered out the number.<p>

Ruth watched on as Harry took control of the situation with practised ease. He phoned the police, kept everyone together and made sure none of the evidence was disturbed, and organised for the first-aid personnel of the club to come down and tend to the shocked guests. This was who Harry Pearce was, she realised. He was a man tailor-made for times of crisis. He did not bother with attempts to reassure the frightened group of people – he left that to her. Ruth moved among them with comforting words and touches and made certain that the most serious cases of shock were attended to first. When the police arrived, the group of people listened in amazement at the details Harry was able to provide:  
>"There were eight assailants, all black men. They all had handguns. Four had Glocks, while two of the others had Berettas. I couldn't see the other two weapons clearly. They came through the trees, four from the left and four from the right. It was obvious that they had only one target in mind – the man they thought was David Percy."<br>A representative from one of the local charities interrupted, "But it _is_ Mr Percy that they took. He's been here for-"  
>Harry cut him off impatiently. "No, it is not. The man they took is an impostor who looks a lot like the real David Percy, but it's not him."<br>The other guests shared confused looks as Harry continued. "The four assailants that were closest to him went straight for him, while the others fired in the air to distract us. One man was about to shoot the target when two of the others interfered and an argument broke out."  
>He turned back to the group. "Did anyone here understand what was said?"<br>One of the waiters, a young local man, stepped forward. "Yes Sir. One man told the second not to shoot Mr Percy – he was worth more alive. The second man said that their instructions were to kill him, but the first man said the old man would pay more to get his son back alive."  
>Harry glanced at Ruth with a grim expression.<p>

- 0 –

_One hour later_

They were back at the hotel. Harry paced Ruth's room whilst she sat on the bed and tried not to be distracted by his dishevelled appearance. His jacket was off – he'd draped it around her shoulders at some stage during the aftermath – and he'd loosened his bowtie and a few buttons. There were streaks of dirt on his sleeve and trousers. They were soon joined by Tim, who had a bottle of Scotch under his arm. Harry was not overly impressed by the label, but needs must. He poured both Ruth and himself generous measures before briefly relating the evening's developments to the journalist. With Tim's added bulk the room felt overcrowded and claustrophobic, and Ruth moved over to the window and opened it as wide as it could. The sounds of the evening traffic drifted in along with the aroma of roasting meat from the restaurant across the street.  
>"But why would someone impersonate David Percy?" Tim asked when Harry finished his account.<br>None of them had an answer to that.  
>Harry moved on. "It is now imperative that we find the real David Percy as soon as possible. Once these people realise their mistake, they could come after him. We need to get to him first."<br>"Sure. But how?" Tim wanted to know.  
>Harry turned to Ruth. "Ruth?"<p>

She sat down on the bed again and mulled over the facts available to them. Harry nursed his Scotch and watched her brain work, confident that if anyone could come up with an idea, it was Ruth.  
>"Okay, we know David visited Kenya with his father a few months ago," she began. "We also know that he enjoyed the services of some of the high class prostitutes whilst here. It seems a reasonable assumption that, if he is in Kenya at the moment, he is shacked up somewhere with one of the ladies he met on his previous visit."<br>"One of the upmarket hotels?" Tim suggested, but Harry shook his head.  
>"Too public. Ruth, do we have a list of properties owned by the Percys?"<br>"Yea." She leaned across to her suitcase and pulled out a folder.  
>He sat down next to her to look through the list together. "Tim, why don't you work your contacts and see if you can find out whether any of the more expensive prostitutes has dropped out of circulation the last few weeks."<br>He handed over a key. "Use my room. Across the corridor."

Once they were alone, they went through the list of properties, identifying the ones in Kenya. Harry was very conscious of Ruth's bare shoulder pressing against his. He could see a bruise forming on her shoulder-blade, and it reminded him of her softness under him as he'd pressed her into the floor. He swallowed hard and concentrated on the list. Ruth pointed at one of the properties.  
>"This one looks promising, Harry. It's a secluded farm on the border of the Masai Mara game reserve, not too far from the Percys' tea plantations. It's apparently used as a sort of lodge to impress business contacts."<br>"That does sound promising."  
>Tim burst back into the room. "I think I've identified the woman, Harry. She's known in the trade as Brown Honey, and she's been out of circulation for the last ten days. She told a friend she's going south with a client."<br>Ruth said, "That farm is to the south," and Harry made up his mind.  
>"We need a helicopter," he told Tim, and then he looked at Ruth. "Care for a trip south?"<p>

- 0 –

By the time Tim succeeded in rustling up a helicopter and pilot, Ruth had found a nearby game lodge with a helipad that would provide them with a vehicle to drive around the area. Even Harry was impressed by this, and said so. As he moved toward the door, Tim turned to Ruth with a look of disbelief.  
>"Bloody hell, did I just hear Harry Pearce compliment you? I never thought I'd see the day."<br>"Shall we go?" Harry said caustically and stalked out. Tim laughed and gave Ruth a wink as they followed.

- 0 –

_Saturday 26 March 2011  
><em>_Percy farm near Masai Mara_

Harry let the car coast to a stop outside the gate and doused the lights. The first daylight began to streak the sky in the east, turning the low clouds pink.  
>"I think we'll walk from here," he told Ruth, resolutely ignoring the weariness seeping through his limbs. He wanted the element of surprise.<br>They made their way up to the house quietly. A long paved drive took them through clumps of trees which eventually opened onto an expansive lawn dotted with flowerbeds. Birds were singing lustily, celebrating the new day with no apparent concern for the two people walking past. There was no other sound to be heard. Harry took in a lungful of the clean air and enjoyed the earthy scents that came with it – wet grass, decaying plant matter and something sweet which he couldn't identify.

They reached the house without incident and stepped onto the veranda. Harry tried the screen door, but it was latched on the inside. He took out a pocketknife and slid the blade between door and jamb, then lifted the latch. He was aware of Ruth's quiet breath behind his shoulder as he eased the door open. She handed him the torch she was carrying and he shone it around the room before stepping inside. They slowly made their way from room to room, and encountered no-one until they came to what appeared to be the master bedroom. The door was pulled to and Harry pushed it open slowly. In the gloom he could make out the shape of two bodies in the huge bed. As he reached for the light switch, he fervently hoped that they'd got this right, otherwise the next few seconds would be a tad embarrassing.

He flipped the light on as he stepped into the room and watched as the two figures began to squirm and waken. He breathed a sigh of relief when one of the heads turned to the door and revealed the features of David Percy. As soon as the young man's eyes blinked open, Harry said pleasantly, "Good morning, David."  
>David stared at the two strangers in befuddlement. "Who the fuck are you?" he croaked blearily.<br>"We were hired by your mother to find you. She hasn't heard from you for two weeks. She was worried."  
>David's answer was a snort of derision. "I find that hard to believe."<br>He was fully awake by now and sat up in the bed. Harry's attention shifted to the woman next to David. Her head was shaved and dark eyes stared at him from an oval face with high cheekbones. She was beautiful.  
>He said to her, "Why don't you go and get a cup of coffee? I need to have a few words with young David."<br>She looked to the man next to her, and he nodded at her. "Go take a shower, Honey."  
>Without a word she got out of bed, her lithe limbs moving gracefully. She walked past them, naked, her dark skin glowing in the early morning light. To Ruth's amusement Harry kept his eyes on David, but the tips of his ears turned red at the woman's unselfconscious display of her body. When the bathroom door closed behind her, Harry said tersely, "Get dressed. We'll be in the kitchen. I need some coffee." He turned on his heel and shepherded Ruth out of the room.<p>

- 0 –

When David finally joined them, a pot of coffee stood on the table and Harry and Ruth cradled steaming mugs. He poured himself one as well and slouched down in a chair, his bare feet stretched out before him. Harry regarded the young man steadily. David clearly wanted to convey an air of nonchalance, but there was something underneath – not quite fear, but a wariness he was trying to hide. Harry took another sip of coffee. He desperately needed the caffeine to revive his flagging energy levels.  
>He said, "Someone has been traipsing around Kenya pretending to be you." He paused and added, "You have an impostor."<br>David blinked, and then he laughed.

It was not quite the reaction they were expecting, and Harry and Ruth exchanged a puzzled glance.  
>"You find that amusing?" Harry enquired.<br>"Yeah. That would be Nate. He's not an impostor, mate."  
>"Oh? What would you call him?"<br>"A… representative." He smirked at them.  
>His attitude ground on Harry's nerves, and he took a deep breath before retorting icily, "We have not had the best of nights. This is not the time to play your silly little games, and I don't have the inclination to listen to any of your bullshit. So give us the facts: who is Nate, and why is he going around pretending to be you?"<br>David held up a hand. "All right. No need to get your knickers in a twist. Nathan is my valet. We look a lot alike, and I saw an opportunity to have some fun. At first it was just for a bit of amusement – I trained him to be me. I would send him into a room full of acquaintances and see how long it took them to notice."  
>He broke off and laughed. "Mind you, he proved to be bloody good at it. The little runt's got ambition, and he took to the role of nobleman like a duck to water. When I got to university, I had a thought. Why should I attend all those boring classes if I have Nate? Unfortunately I haven't yet found a way to let him write the exams. Once I do, we may finally pass."<br>He nattered on, too wrapped up in his own cleverness to notice the darkening expressions of the two people across the table.  
>"When I decided to come to Kenya for a little R&amp;R with Honey, I hit upon the idea of sending Nate around to do some community work. I thought that if it looked like I was out here doing some charity stuff it would keep my parents off my back for a while. Apparently I was wrong."<p>

There was an ominous silence. Then Harry said, "Nathan was kidnapped last night."  
>David sat up straight, momentarily shocked, but then shook his head. "Don't be ridiculous. Who would want to kidnap a valet?"<br>"Someone who thought they were kidnapping the son of the Duke of Suffolk," Ruth snapped.  
>Harry added, "Don't be obtuse. You sent Nathan to impersonate you at a gala for one of your family's community projects in Nairobi, during which he was snatched by armed men and dragged off to God knows where."<br>"_What_? I didn't send him there. I told that useless bastard to stay away from Nairobi. Too many people there had met me when I accompanied my father on his last business trip here."  
>He shrugged and added snidely, "I did think he was becoming too big for his boots."<br>Harry glared at him. "Oh yes, it's all Nathan's fault." The sarcasm dripped from every word. "I expect you to get a phone call from the kidnappers soon, demanding money for the return of your valet."  
>David opened his mouth to object but Harry overrode him. "Because you can be damn sure the first thing Nathan did was to convince them that he is, alas, not David Percy V."<br>As if by prior arrangement, David's mobile began to vibrate at that very moment.

All eyes turned to it. David sat frozen, unable to comprehend what was happening.  
>"Answer it," Harry commanded, and the young man snatched it up.<br>"Yes?... Who the fuck is thi-... You can't order me around, do you know who I am?... What? Wait-"  
>He slowly put the phone down, and Harry looked ready to strangle him. Ruth put a restraining hand on his arm and could feel his muscles bunched tensely through his shirt.<br>"They demanded ten thousand dollars, said they are sending me a picture as incentive," the young man announced. His phone pinged and he glanced at the image before getting up to pace the floor. Harry took the phone and he and Ruth looked at the picture of Nathan, who had obviously been beaten severely.  
>Harry said, "Ten thousand isn't much. You should be able to get that together quickly-"<br>"I'm not bloody paying!" David shouted. "If he'd listened-"  
>"Harry!" Ruth said sharply, but it was too late. He was on his feet in a flash and grabbed the other man by the collar. He dragged him over to the table and snatched the mobile off it, holding it a few inches in front of David's nose.<br>"Look at him! That should have been you. He is there because you found it _amusing_ to train him like a circus monkey, to impersonate you. Just so that you could shirk your responsibilities and shack up with a prostitute. And now you have the bloody nerve to blame him for it."  
>He shoved David away in disgust, his chest heaving. After a few deep breaths he continued more calmly. "It's time to grow up, David. A title and money is not enough to earn you respect. A man does that by taking responsibility for his actions. You got Nathan into this mess, and you must get him out of it."<br>David had backed away from Harry and stood with his back pressed against the wall. His eyes focussed on the mobile and he wiped a hand over his face. Eventually he nodded, all the bravado knocked out of him.  
>"I'll get the money together," he said softly.<p>

_tbc_


	6. Chapter 6

_Saturday 26 March 2011  
>Percy farm near Masai Mara<em>

Harry stood on the veranda. The view over the valley was spectacular. Morning mist was gathered in the lowest hollows, and the savannah, dotted with acacia trees, stretched as far as the eye could see. He called Tim, who had stayed behind in Nairobi, and organised for him to receive the money and to leave it in the place dictated by the kidnappers.  
>"They want you to leave it in the trash bin outside the entrance of the Makina market. It's in Kibera. Will you do it?"<br>"Of course."  
>"No funny tricks, Tim. Just leave the money and walk away."<br>"You trust them to keep their word and release the poor bugger?" Tim asked dubiously.  
>Harry watched a line of zebras walk down to a waterhole. "Yes, I do. They got the wrong man – they just want to recoup what they can out of this whole mess. However… Do you still run that group of stringers in Kibera?"<br>"Yeah."  
>"See if they can follow whoever picks up the money. If the kidnappers do renege, I want to know where they are."<br>"Right. I'll let you know how it goes."

Harry snapped shut his mobile and braced his hands on the low wall. Ruth appeared at his side and placed another cup of coffee in front of him. He smiled at her gratefully and they stood quietly, gazing out over the Masai Mara. Both were mindful that this was a rare moment of shared peace in their turbulent lives. Harry turned his head and watched as the morning sun lit one cheek, eye and nose of his companion, and his heart missed a beat.  
>"Ruth," he breathed, his voice low and hoarse with yearning.<br>He saw her swallow, and then she said, "I was thinking-"  
>"Don't think," he pleaded, reaching out a hand to turn her face to his. "For this one moment, let's not think."<br>The longing in his eyes dried up her words of protest and her gaze dipped to his lips. That was all it took. He leaned towards her and kissed her, slow and soft, a promise for the future. His stubble scraped lightly against her skin and she knew with sudden clarity that this was what she would like to experience every morning for the rest of her life. When he pulled away she kept her eyes closed for a few seconds, a warm smile spreading across her face. He waited for her to open them before he spoke.  
>"If I survive the Inquiry, perhaps we could…?"<br>She nodded happily. "I'd like that. Very much."  
>David appeared behind them. "Your man has picked up the money. He's on his way."<p>

When he'd gone back into the house, Harry said, "He was in those photographs on Brent's desk."  
>When she frowned in confusion, he elaborated. "Nathan. I thought he looked familiar. He was part of that group that posed with every new car of David's. I should have made the connection sooner."<br>Ruth sighed and folded her arms. She leaned a hip against the wall and let her eyes sweep over the valley before coming back to Harry's face.  
>"Just when I think that people can't surprise me anymore, something like this happens," she said.<br>Harry watched her, saw the little frown etched on her brow.  
>"What is it?" he asked gently.<br>"Something David said has been bothering me. He said he'd sent Nathan out to impersonate him to keep his parents off his back. Harry, he expected them to know he came here."  
>Harry stared at her. "You think Lady Agnes has known all along?"<br>She shrugged helplessly. "Maybe, I don't know. You said she was hiding something. But if that were the case, I can't figure out why she would hire us to look for him."  
>Harry looked troubled. He had an inkling, and it was too awful to contemplate.<p>

- 0 –

_One hour later_

Tim called. "I've dropped the money. My people are in place, they'll follow whoever collects it. If we find their hidey hole, do you want me to tip off the police?"  
>"No," Harry responded. "I want to talk to them personally." There was an ominous note in his voice that didn't brook any argument.<br>He looked at Ruth. "Now we wait."

- 0 –

The kidnappers kept their word. Forty minutes later Tim got an SMS with a location. When he reached it he found Nathan, blindfolded and hands tied behind his back, sitting on the kerb. Tim took him to hospital and waited while he was checked out. He was about to inform Harry that Nathan had not sustained any serious damage when he received another message.

- 0 –

_Late that night  
>Abandoned warehouse, Nairobi<em>

Uhuru sat in the darkness and listened to his own breathing. It was fast and ragged with fear. He could not hear any sound from the men who had grabbed him from his house and brought him here. Once again he tested the binds that tied him to the chair, but they did not budge. He wondered if he would die here – live by the sword, die by the sword, was that not the saying? He had failed to deliver on the agreement, and perhaps this was the price he had to pay. Not for the first time he cursed his own greed – if he had allowed them to shoot the Englishman on the spot perhaps he would not be in this predicament. There was a faint sound, and he held his breath and pricked his ears. It grew louder and he realised a vehicle was approaching. A heavy door slid open and he was momentarily blinded by the headlights of a car that swept into the warehouse. By the time he was able to focus, two men and a woman had alighted. One of the men walked towards him whilst the others stayed near the car.

Harry came to a stop a few feet in front of the prisoner and regarded him without expression.  
>"Hello," he said mildly after a few seconds. "You made rather a hash of the whole thing, didn't you? Not only did you decide against orders to kidnap David Percy rather than kill him, you didn't even get the right man."<br>He added, "What is your name?"  
>After a long pause the prisoner responded sullenly, "Uhuru".<br>"Well, Uhuru, I think we can help each other," Harry stated. "I'm sure you would prefer not to go to prison, and I can keep you out of it. In return I require some information: I would very much like to know who paid you to kill David Percy." He took a step closer and leaned forward. "The truth shall set you free," he promised.  
>Uhuru stared at the unknown man before him, who so assuredly talked about freedom. He did not particularly trust this man, but he could see no other option. He began to talk.<p>

- 0 –

_Tuseday 29 March 2011, late night  
>London, Percy mansion<em>

As Lady Agnes and her youngest son Edward entered her private sitting room, the light was off. She frowned and tried to remember whether she had switched it off when she'd left the room for dinner. Since the unpleasant developments in Kenya, they were all on edge. It was with a sense of apprehension that she flicked on the switch. Light flooded the room and she could see nothing out of place. Then, suddenly, the television came to life. On it was the face of a young black man and she heard Edward draw in a sharp breath.  
>"My name is Uhuru," the man on the television said. "A few weeks ago I was approached by Edward Percy, the youngest son of the Duke of Suffolk. He offered me ten thousand dollars to kill his older brother David. He knew that his father had fired me two months ago. So not only did I need the money; I also felt resentment towards the family-"<p>

Edward dived for the remote on the table, but another hand got there before him. Harry moved swiftly out of the shadows where he'd stood unnoticed and snatched it up.  
>"Harry!" Lady Agnes gasped. She was as white as a sheet. "You gave me a fright," she added lamely.<br>Harry regarded the two people in front of him with contempt.  
>"Your devious little plan to pretend that your son was missing so that any investigation into his death would not be connected to you and Edward has backfired, I'm afraid. I should have discovered your nefarious intentions sooner," he mused, "but regrettably I was blinded by your rather convincing display of concern for your eldest."<br>Her eyes slid away from his and she licked her suddenly dry lips as she contemplated denying everything, but when she looked back at his forbidding expression she knew it would be pointless. She decided on another approach.  
>"It was not a decision I took lightly, you have to understand that. But my husband refuses to see David for what he is. He will be the ruin of this family, and given our social and economic standing, it would also do great damage to the country," she said, trying to play on Harry's patriotism.<br>"Oh please," he said coldly. "You don't care one iota about the implications for the country – none of you. All you care about is your comfortable life."  
>Edward stepped forward aggressively. "Who do you think you are to come into our house and threaten us?"<br>"Edward," his mother warned.  
>Harry stared the young man down. "Better listen to your mother, boy. Believe me when I tell you that I'm the last person you would want to make an enemy of. There are still some things in this world that money cannot save you from."<br>Edward wavered, unwilling to back down, but one look at the fear on his mother's face persuaded him otherwise. She obviously knew who this mysterious man was and was afraid of what he could do to them. He slumped onto the sofa and buried his face in his hands.  
>"I should never have listened to you," he mumbled in his mother's direction.<p>

"What are you going to do?" Lady Agnes asked Harry.  
>He let the silence stretch uncomfortably. "First of all you will find you no longer have your pick of the rich and powerful to warm your bed. I don't think it a good idea that a murderous sociopath should have sexual relations with men in influential positions, and I will make sure it's known in the relevant circles."<br>Lady Agnes closed her eyes in despair.  
>"Don't worry," he said caustically, "the streets are teeming with commoners, so you don't have to become a nun."<br>Her eyes flashed with something close to hatred, but she said nothing.  
>Harry continued, "And secondly, you better hope David lives to a ripe old age, because that tape will find its way to the Police in the event of his untimely demise. Even if he were struck by lightning, you can rest assured you and your youngest offspring will be the subject of intense police scrutiny."<br>He gave them a last good long stare before making for the door.  
>"Oh," he turned back and gestured toward the television, "you can keep that copy. There are plenty of others."<p>

- 0 –

Ruth's car was parked half a mile from the gate of the Percy residence. She had insisted on coming along (and on driving, but that was a whole other story), but Harry had drawn the line at her accompanying him into the house. She had, therefore, kept vigil in front of the gate for the last hour. It was with immense relief that she saw his shape materialise out of the darkness. Her eyes stayed on him until he slid into the passenger seat next to her safely.  
>"How did it go?"<br>He grunted. "Lady Agnes was somewhat put-out by the idea that she would now have to associate with the unwashed masses if she wants to have a sex life."  
>Ruth smiled weakly, unable to be as flippant about the situation as Harry was. When she didn't say anything, he turned to look at her face properly.<br>"You don't like it." It was not a question.  
>"No, I don't. And I don't understand why you're not angered by it. They should be prosecuted."<br>His eyes never left her face. "Look at me, Ruth," he commanded, and waited until she did. "You think this whole sordid mess doesn't anger me?"  
>She scanned his face, noting for the first time the lines running from his nose to the corners of his mouth, the hard look in his eyes, and the stern set of his mouth. Her shoulders sagged and she raised a hand to briefly touch his chest.<br>"No. I don't know why I said that."  
>He relaxed fractionally. "Prosecuting them would solve nothing. It is their word against that of a young black man from Kenya who had recently been fired by the Duke. They would attain the services of the best lawyer money can buy, and Uhuru wouldn't stand a chance."<br>"Harry," she said, touching his chest again, "I honestly don't blame you. It was just my frustration talking. I know how the game works."  
>He nodded. "Then I think you'd better take me home, Miss Evershed. Now that we have found Bertie you're no longer supposed to fraternise with me."<br>She smiled, but it could not hide the hint of sadness in her eyes.

- 0 –

She parked in front of Harry's house and switched off the engine. They sat in silence; there was so much that they both wanted to say, but neither knew where to start.  
>Harry took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I'd ask you in, but…"<br>He lifted his chin in the direction of the two men watching from a car parked on the opposite side of the street.  
>She looked at him, and there was something in her expression that made his heart beat faster. "And I would have accepted," she murmured, and he almost kissed her.<br>They just looked at each other for a long, long time.  
>"All right," Harry said in the end and reached for the door.<br>"Harry." Ruth grabbed his arm and held him back. "I'll see you at the Inquiry," she promised.  
>He began to shake his head. "No, Ruth, you don't have to-"<br>"Yes I do," she said determinedly, and he had to fight down a wave of emotion.  
>"Thank you."<p>

He stood on the pavement and watched until her taillights disappeared around the corner, an idea beginning to form in the back of his head. He might just survive the Inquiry with some indirect help from Ruth's brilliance. Without sparing a glance for the watchers across the street, he turned and walked inside, already composing the first paragraph of the report that would outline Ruth's value to MI5. His heart beat warmly in his chest, and for the first time since she had come back from Cyprus, he began to believe that they might have a future.  
>Together.<p>

_Fin_

_A/N: Thanks for all the kind reviews. The idea was to keep this in canon, and I saw nothing in season 10 that persuaded me that Harry and Ruth became intimate between seasons, hence no intimacy in this fic. I hope those who wanted more are not too disappointed.  
><em>


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